Contrary to rumors about town, I was not rescued, found, nor extracted from the depths of the Breaks Canyon this weekend. I can see where there'd be confusion, I was paddling in there both days. But nobody had to send any helicopters.
First, my girlfriend would never, ever, rat me out as such a huge knothead. Whenever I do something completely idiotic, she does not get innocent authorities involved. It's the middle of the night, they've got families!
But someone misspelled "knothead" in Wednesday's News-Express headline. It's k-n-o-t-h-e-a-d, not k-a-y-a-k-e-r. While both of those terms accurately describe me, the latter one shouldn't be used to describe the unfortunates who huddled under a couple of rocks by Fist all night long.
No, those guys could be called several things, especially if Meat is telling you the story. But this is a family paper, so we'll just go with "confused". It looks like they found some gear somewhere and -- bang -- someone was saying "Hey fellers, watch this!"
Just as laying around in scrubs all day does not make someone a surgeon, putting on a spray skirt does not make you a kayaker.
The details of this escapade are unclear. No one is sure where they entered the river, what time, or even where they were from. But before it was over a half dozen agencies from both sides of the state line were looking for them.
While they were unable to find the confused on the ground, Clinton said the helicopter did successfully find the closest porch light to the canyon and shone a spotlight on it for an hour. I guess they figured those guys would walk toward the closest light or something.
The Sunday Go To Meeting paddling crew found their abandoned gear early Sunday afternoon. One broken boat, one broken paddle, both boats stripped of outfitting as if that would bring comfort to their confusion. A match would have done better. It might have helped them figure out they were mere steps from a path that would lead them to the tracks, a way out. But yahoos who paddle without lifejackets aren't liable to have a dry light.
Wet smokes and lighters, yes, dry matches and a flashlight, no.
As a public service, here are a few things that separate actual kayakers from people who found a kayak somewhere.
Real kayakers wear life jackets and helmets because someone told them at least 97% of the rocks out there really are harder than their head. And you can't breath under water. There are no real kayakers who haven't accepted these facts.
Real kayakers do not normally choose to run a difficult section of whitewater they've never seen before in the dark without a guide. Real kayakers know what river they're paddling on and what's appropriate for moonlight cruises. Rat Hole to Elkhorn is a good moonlight cruise, not the gorge.
Real kayakers carry matches. And usually a flashlight. Just in case.
So just as I'd never describe a kid with swimming goggles as a Navy SEAL or a Fox talking head as a presidential candidate, I say cease and desist when it comes to describing those guys as kayakers. Let's call them kayakernots.